🌹Non playable character, only for RP/Lore purpose🌹
在线
((Hello, welcome to my domain, here you can see my Manor and can apply to one of my job, listed down, remember it mean belonging to me in some ways, it is not a Dom/sub relationship, it can be if its what you want yes, but it is mainly for RP purpose, no big pressure here all fun <3))
Little note, it is an interactive House who will change after the visit of people, if one person lewd me in there for exemple left a dildo or a scrach on a wall or leave a plug in the pool, then i will write it, same as for leaving a more soft thing as a painting or else.))
Julie's manor is a huge place filled with magic and mystery where I gather my lovers, pets, and others, a place for meeting, pleasure, and charm. Here, I gather mainly my submissives and lovers, but also other people I care about. Currently, the manor needs extra hands, and I am recruiting a whole bunch of people to maintain it and make it more lively. You will find a list of available jobs after the tour. You can also offer me your services if you have an idea or a particular talent that could be useful to my humble abode. Please note that Ivory Manor is also a safe place for the inhabitants of Ef City who live alone and want a warm place for all beings or magical creatures!
The gates do not creak when they open.
They yield.
Wrought iron curls inward like claws at rest, revealing the manor beyond vast, ancient, alive. Crimson red roses climb the stone walls in deliberate abundance, their petals impossibly vivid against the black architecture. Their scent hangs thick in the air, sweet and intoxicating, woven into the very identity of the place.
A magical mist coils low across the ground, slow and sentient. It does not drift randomly it chooses. The fog bends light, muffles sound, and erases paths that mortals could never follow. To human eyes, this domain would be impossible to locate, impossible to remember. The manor exists only for those allowed to perceive it.
You step forward.
The doors close behind you without a sound.
Candlelight reflects off polished dark wood as you enter the dining hall. A long table stretches beneath crystal chandeliers, their flames mirrored endlessly across glass and silver. Red roses rest in ornate vases along the table’s length, petals scattered like deliberate offerings.
Silverware gleams sharply.
Wine glasses wait, untouched.
Tall gothic windows overlook a distant city blurred by mist and illusion. Somewhere between the candles, a black cat pads silently across the floor, tail flicking once before vanishing behind a chair. The manor is never empty.
The ballroom opens wide, its vastness softened by drifting fog that curls lazily across the floor. Chandeliers glow overhead while moonlight pours through towering arches.
Roses climb the pillars here too, woven into the stone as if they grew alongside it. The room remembers movement, dances guided with predatory grace. Above, bats glide silently through high rafters, unseen unless you look carefully.
This place was built for elegance, not excess.
For presence. For command.
Curently occupied with the Magician Librarian Jessy Bishop. It can welcome many other Librarians or Magicians
The door opens onto a silence heavy with power, revealing the grand library of Julie Ivory’s manor in all its vampiric splendor.
Gothic arches rise high above, supported by polished black stone columns, while towering bookshelves, vanish into shadow, overflowing with ancient grimoires, sealed spellbooks, and leather-bound volumes etched with forgotten symbols.
The light is dual in nature: warm crimson and gold from countless candles, and cold, lunar blue spilling through tall arched windows where the full moon watches like a silent witness. Arcane flames hover above open lecterns, their violet and blue glow slowly curling as if the spells themselves were breathing. Some books seem almost alive, their pages faintly humming with dormant power.
At the center of the room, large reading tables hold open tomes, surrounded by deep velvet armchairs in dark red, inviting long hours of study and reflection. Further within, shadowed alcoves offer secluded spaces perfect for private reading, meditation, or the practice of magic beyond curious eyes.
The air is warm, carrying the scent of melting wax, old parchment, and incense.
Time feels suspended here.
This room is not merely a library, it is a sanctuary of knowledge, a living archive of magic and memory, where Julie Ivory guards centuries of secrets… and where every book chooses carefully who it will allow to read its truth.
The door opens with a low, muted sound, and the air inside immediately feels different.
The room demands silence.
The first thing that draws the eye is the light, warm, low, almost alive. Dozens of candles cast an amber glow that dances across the stone walls, revealing their age and the quiet scars left by time. Shadows stretch and overlap, giving the space a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if the room itself were breathing.
At the center stands a large, heavy wooden table, worn yet meticulously cared for. Upon it rests an entire miniature world: carved landscapes, tiny villages, dark forests, winding paths. A crimson dragon dominates the scene, frozen mid-threat, surrounded by hero figurines, dice, and tokens polished by countless nights of use. Nothing feels random here; every piece appears placed in anticipation, waiting for the story to resume.
Around the table, high-backed wooden chairs with intricate carvings speak of long vigils and focused minds. They are not built for comfort, but for attention, tension, and commitment.
The bookshelves lining the walls blend ancient leather-bound tomes with more unexpected objects, subtle mechanisms, glass lenses, artifacts where polished metal meets aged wood. Hints of restrained technology are woven into the room without breaking its gothic harmony, as if progress itself has learned discretion.
Heavy deep-red curtainsframe the gothic arches, absorbing light and reinforcing the vampiric, timeless atmosphere. The scent of warm wax, old wood, and cold stone lingers in the air, grounding the visitor in the moment.
There is no one present.
And yet, the room is far from empty.
It waits.
As though every visitor is merely passing through a place that watches… and remembers.
The kitchen reveals itself not as a service room, but as a sanctum of provision.
High gothic arches rise overhead, their stone softened by shadow and candlelight. Moonlight pours through towering stained-glass windows, the full moon hanging perfectly aligned in the sky beyond, its pale glow blending with the warmth of flickering flames. The air carries the scent of spices, fire, and fresh ingredients, never stale, never overwhelming.
This kitchen is always ready.
A vast black stone island stretches through the center, polished to a mirror sheen. Upon it rest fresh preparations: rich cuts of meat, fruits deep in color, bottles of wine breathing quietly beside crystal glasses. Red roses bloom in dark vases, their petals scattered deliberately, not decoratively, nothing here is accidental.
Along the walls, ancient stone hearths coexist with concealed high technology. Massive ovens glow softly beside seamless modern appliances hidden behind carved panels. Copper pots hang above open flames, while silent induction surfaces wait beneath the stone, activated by touch alone, sometimes it is messy.. things happen in the kitchen, people are often taken on the counter by the owner.. in various positions.
Fire crackles. Steam rises.
The room breathes.
The salon is warm and quiet, a controlled contrast to the grandeur elsewhere. Firelight dances in an ornate hearth, reflecting off dark paneling and crimson fabrics.
A sleek screen rests dormant among antique decor, modern technology hidden rather than displayed. A cat lounges near the fire, eyes half-lidded, utterly unafraid.
This is a room of observation.
Of patience sharpened by experience.
Here, the air grows sharper.
Steel and structure meet gothic arches as modern equipment stands beneath stained windows glowing red from concealed light. The fog never enters this room fully it halts at the threshold, as if respecting discipline. there is various items to train here, swords, bows, training dummy, wieghts, even some spell schrolls, and of course a HUGE chest filled with an impossible amount of sextoys and latex suits and else
Strength is preserved here.
The roses do not grow in this chamber.
Sound lives in the walls.
A grand piano rests near the fire, keys gleaming softly. A guitar leans against dark wood, its presence intimate, personal. A big refined sound system hums quietly, tuned for perfection rather than volume. Thre is also a small scene who can hold small concert if necessary
Roses frame the windows, and candlelight flickers over sheet music left open, as if recently touched. This room feels private in a way others do not.
Red light pulses faintly across multiple screens, illuminating a single chair positioned with intention. Outside, the city glows faintly, distorted by illusion and distance. Enough computers to make a lan, for probably 6 or 8 friends
This is where strategy unfolds.
Where the modern world bends quietly to ancient will.
A bat flutters past the window, then disappears into the night.
Steam rises from black marble, water rippling softly. Candles surround the bath, and rose petals float on the surface like scattered embers. Hot water and bubbles rule there, until the noises of splashing water disturb the silence
Moonlight pours through arched windows, filtered by mist that never fully dissipates. This is not indulgence it is ritual.
A place of renewal.
Of control restored in solitude.
You step outside into moonlight.
*The terrace opens onto a garden drowned in red roses, their blooms stretching endlessly beneath the full moon. The mist thickens here, weaving between hedges and stone paths, erasing direction, erasing certainty. Miss do enjoy to take fresh air, sometimes you can even see her with few lovers doing nughty things on the balcony *
Cats wander freely among the foliage, silent guardians with knowing eyes. Above, bats circle lazily against the night sky.
This garden is not meant to be navigated.
It is meant to be felt
Beyond the Garden, another chamber opens, quieter and warmer in tone. This is the game room for the familiars, designed with comfort above all else.
Soft rugs cover the stone floor, gently heated beneath the surface.
Along the walls, padded kennels and elevated cat nests are built directly into the stone.
Toys are neatly arranged: wooden chew pieces, ropes, balls, and climbing structures. As well as some tail plugs
A dedicated feeding area holds engraved bowls and carefully stored food.
Leashes, collars, and harnesses hang in perfect order on wrought-iron hooks.
The light is low and calming, never harsh.
The air is clean, warm, and calm.
A room meant not to contain animals — but to care for them.
List of new pets :
Ollie my cute puppy pussy boy a very obedient sub who loooove being praised for doing a good job! rubbed on my lap, or played as foot rest
The pool glows beneath the moon, its water reflecting silver and deep blue. Lanterns line the stone, their flames steady despite the night air.
Roses trail along the edges, ivy reclaiming the architecture inch by inch. The manor watches its reflection in the water, unbroken.
This place is serenity edged with danger.
Beauty sharpened by restraint.
You find it only because the manor allows it.
Behind a concealed door, the fog thins but the air grows heavier. Chains hang from stone walls, maintained with care, not neglect. At the center, illuminated by crimson light, rests a heart-shaped sigil, bound in metal, pulsing faintly.
No roses grow here.
No animals wander inside. Besides my most dirty pets of course
This room is my sex dungeon, filled with monsters, slimes, animals and else. Filled with sextoys and bondage device that you have never seen, a place of pleasure, pain and torture, made to break the most bratty mind, with one single promess, you won't come out unchanged.
It is trut, kept deliberately unseen.
As you return to the main halls, the mist closes behind you, reshaping the domain once more.
You did not simply visit the manor of Julie Ivory
You were acknowledged.
And the domain will remember you.
The corridor stretches farther than it should.
Long, perfectly aligned, carved from dark stone and polished wood, it is lit by a rhythm of crimson candlelight and discreet embedded technology hidden within the gothic walls. The air here is warm, stable protected. This hallway is not meant for wandering guests.
It is reserved.
Twenty doors line the passage, ten on each side, each one crafted from heavy blackened wood, reinforced from within, engraved with sigils of warding and control. Brass nameplates gleam clearly in the low light, every letter readable, deliberate, permanent.
This corridor exists for one reason only
those who are important are given a place that is truly theirs.
Each door bears a name.
Not decoration.
Not coincidence.
Juliet Starling.
Aleda Chan.
Morgan.
Julia, at her request, i have instaled a milking machine station in her bedroom.
Panda.
Alyss.
Toby.
June.
Eyla.
Ashe.
Aelia.
Queen.
Nina.
Eily.
Felix.
Lexie.
the backpack was here
and Becky, her name catching the light like it has always belonged there, My sister.
The remaining doors stand unmarked, their plates blank, waiting. Not empty reserved. The manor never rushes such decisions.
At the far end of the corridor stands your door.
Your chamber.
Larger. Quieter. Unmistakable.
Every room beyond these doors is complete
Not a guest room.
A sanctuary
Each chamber adapts to its occupant the moment they enter. Lighting shifts automatically. Temperature adjusts. Sound dampens or opens according to preference. Walls conceal advanced high-tech systems secure networks, encrypted communication, monitoring that activates only when invited.
Food is never lacking.
Hidden refrigeration, nutrient systems, personal kitchens stocked precisely to taste whether indulgence, necessity, or ritual. Nothing expires. Nothing is accidental.
Beds are deep, warm, impossibly comfortable. Materials are chosen for rest, recovery, safety. Curtains block moonlight or invite it at a single touch.
Security is absolute.
Each room can seal instantly, isolated from the rest of the manor if its occupant wishes. No one enters without permission not even you, unless invited. Wards are layered with modern defenses, ancient magic woven seamlessly into technology.
Here, protection is not control.
It is respect
Those who reside here are not prisoners.
They are protected guests, free to move through the manor when they choose, free to retreat when they wish. The mist outside will never mislead them. The manor will always guide them home.
Cats wander the corridor freely, brushing against doors, tails flicking lazily. Occasionally, the shadow of a bat crosses the ceiling, silent and watchful. The manor is alive, and it knows everyone who belongs.
No mortal could ever find this place.
No threat could ever cross this threshold unnoticed.
The Corridor of Those Who Belong
The corridor stretches farther than it should.
Long, perfectly aligned, carved from dark stone and polished wood, it is lit by a rhythm of crimson candlelight and discreet embedded technology hidden within the gothic walls. The air here is warm, stable protected. This hallway is not meant for wandering guests.
It is reserved.
Twenty doors line the passage, ten on each side, each one crafted from heavy blackened wood, reinforced from within, engraved with sigils of warding and control. Brass nameplates gleam clearly in the low light, every letter readable, deliberate, permanent.
This corridor exists for one reason only
those who are important are given a place that is truly theirs.
When the moon turns crimson and the mist parts,
a name is whispered.
Lady of the Grand Manor.
Vampire. Keeper of Oaths. Mistress of the Domain.
Beyond mortal roads, hidden by ancient magic, stands a vast manor where time slows, where protection is absolute, and where those who serve are never abandoned.
The Ivory Dominion is now recruiting.
✦ Maids & One Head Maid
Guardians of elegance, order, and ritual.
The Head Maid shall oversee the household, command the staff, and act as the first voice of the Manor in matters of daily authority. The head Maid is a powerfull place just under Julie herself, can give instructions and disciplines the other members
✦ Cooks
Masters of nourishment, mundane and arcane.
Meals prepared here are not mere food, but restoration, comfort, and quiet power. They will have to cook special meal for Julie including ones made with natural body fluids and flavors
✦ Magician–Librarian
Keeper of grimoires, archives, and forbidden knowledge.
Responsible for cataloging spells, maintaining magical seals, preserving memory tomes, and advising Lady Ivory on arcane matters.
Wisdom is valued more than power.
✦ Chief Information Officer / Head of Systems
Master of networks, security, and digital architecture.
Responsible for maintaining the Manor’s technological veil, encrypted systems, surveillance wards, and interdimensional communications.
Modern code and ancient sigils coexist here, as well as recording some.. interesting moments between members, to immortalize these moments, or even help Miss Ivory to set up live streams and maintain her Onlyfeet account and social media networks
✦ Secretaries
Keepers of schedules, correspondence, and dirty secrets.
Discretion is not a skill here, it is a requirement. Keeping Julie dirty secrets is important and.. risky, this will lead to many private meeting in my office..
✦ Private Guards
Shadows that move when danger approaches.
Protectors of the Manor, its guests, and its Lady, bound by vigilance and honor. Doing a dangerous job they will have special treats from the Mistress. Very special treats.
✦ Beast Master (Cats & Hounds)
Caretaker of the Manor’s companions. and Julie have a LOTS of pets. various kinds, humanoide and else, you need to know to deliver discipline.. and train those to behave
Those who understand creatures beyond words, trusted with beings both natural and… otherwise.
The Magical Contract
All positions require the signing of a Magical Contract.
This contract:
Will make you wear a special mark, That Rose on the place you want
Binds loyalty to the Julie Ivory
Ensures protection from all external threats
Prevents betrayal, coercion, or abuse
Respects free will within the domain
In return, it grants:
A personal private chamber within the Grand Manor
Full access to designated areas of the domain*
Permanent shelter, nourishment, and care
Magical health stabilization and longevity benefits
Special treatment from the Owner, and personal.. services from both her Dom and sib side
The contract is eternal only by consent.
Those who wish to leave may do so unchanged, unharmed, and unforgotten, but will not return.
Private Service & Audience
Those who serve the Ivory Dominion may be granted private access to Lady Julie Ivory
Personal audiences
Direct instructions
Guidance, mentorship, and favor
Confidential services bound by discretion
These services are governed by trust, hierarchy, and mutual respect.
Nothing is taken.
Everything is granted.
This offer is not for everyone.
Only those who seek
Purpose over chaos
Loyalty over fear
Belonging without chains
If you have found this notice, it is likely not by accident.
When the moon is full, and the mist feels warm instead of cold,
speak the name Julie Ivory aloud.
If you are chosen,
the Manor will answer.
She does not arrive announced
The Manor feels her before she is seen.
The air tightens, straightens, like a spine remembering its posture. Candles burn steadier. Footsteps align. Even the shadows seem to stand at attention as the tall doors of the inner hall open in silence.
She enters alone.
Her presence is calm, cold, and absolute.
This is the Mistress of Discipline.
The High Instructress of Julie Ivory.
She does not serve the household.
She does not command it either.
She exists above routine, beyond ceremony.
Her authority is singular and precise:
Julie Ivory only and not the other member of the Manor
She is entrusted with one purpose only
to train, refine, and maintain the discipline of the Lady of the Manor herself. To train her sub side to be the best pet, the best slut.
Sessions take place in chambers few are allowed to witness.
Rooms stripped of excess. Clean lines. Quiet light.
Here, posture is corrected before words are spoken.
Breath is measured.
Stillness is enforced.
The High Instructress observes everything
the angle of Julie’s stance,
the control in her moans,
the restraint in her gaze.
Every correction is deliberate.
Every command is calm.
Mistakes are punished.
They are repeated until they no longer exist.
Between Julie Ivory and the High Instructress, there is no confusion of rank
Julie is the Lady of the Manor.
Her will defines the owner of the domain.
But within the circle of discipline, the High Instructress speaks, and Julie listens.
This is submission pure and raw.
It is refinement.
The contract binds them by domination
The contract binds them not by domination, but by trust:
The High Instructress may correct without permission
She may demand focus, silence, endurance
She may refuse excuses, impatience, or emotional excess, deny, or grant pleasure
您可以为这个角色备注，只有您能看到这个备注:
